


The Shadow And The Night

by GoldfishForHire



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Damian Wayne is trying his best, Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Family, Gen, Talia al Ghul tried her best, Vulnerability, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldfishForHire/pseuds/GoldfishForHire
Summary: A series of events surrounding one night's patrol force Damian to reflect on both his past and his future and how they affect each other.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	The Shadow And The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set while Bruce is lost in time. After Blackest Night but shortly before Tim returns to Gotham.

Damian was already in uniform and checking over his equipment for that night’s patrol when the call came in. Superman and the android Damian knew to be Red Tornado were on the screen of the main computer in the bunker. Grayson had already donned the cape and cowl, but Damian could still read the sudden rigidness to his spine and shoulders with ease.

For a moment, no one spoke and Damian took that time to silently equip himself in the event that they needed to leave immediately. Finally Superman sighed. “We’ve verified it as much as we can and Oracle went over the footage herself.”

“I’ve seen the footage. I’ve seen the photos.” Batman’s voice was measured and precise. “It doesn’t prove anything definitively.”

“It’s enough to warrant an investigation, Batman, you know that. Tim Wayne has been connected to an explosion in a hotel room in Paris, Red Robin has been connected to a shootout and car explosion in the same city as well as a museum heist that included an attack on a Global Guardian in Berlin, and Alvin Draper is suspected in smuggling the artifact that Red Robin stole. Someone needs to at least talk to him about it.”

“Any criminal activity is only suspected. There’s no concrete proof of anything sinister in his actions. There is, however, definitive confirmation from several sources that Red Robin was integral to rescuing a hostage from a group of terrorists in Madrid. There was also confirmation that Tim Wayne’s room was attacked from a distance which means that he was a target and not likely a perpetrator in that or any related crime.” Batman’s voice was still steady and reasonable, but he gripped the edge of the desk in front of the monitor with enough force that his arms shook. “There’s no reason to jump to conclusions. If he’s not hurting anyone, we need to give him a chance to come back on his own. He’s working alone out there and he seems to be doing some good.”

Superman was already shaking his head. “He wasn’t alone on the museum heist. He was with at least two others, possibly three including a sniper who security cameras a couple blocks over actually managed to get a partial image of. The two who were inside with him are still unidentified, but the sniper was ID’d as Marcus Owens plus a half dozen other burned aliases. He’s wanted by both INTERPOL and Mossad in connection to more than eleven separate high profile assassinations going back ten years.”

The name sounded familiar, but Damian couldn’t place it. Both facts were troubling. Although, “If Drake is so inept that he could be so easily swayed, perhaps it’s best that he was let go.”

Batman turned his head just enough that it was obvious he was glaring at him before he addressed the men on the screen. This time his anger could be heard in his voice. “A partial match isn’t definitive. Facial recognition software had it at a less than eighty percent match. More than that, do you really think he’d willingly work with someone like that?”

The synthetic voice of the android sounded for the first time. “The association is not in itself surprising. By his own admission, this would not be the first time he has willingly ‘teamed up’ as it were with someone he knew to be an assassin of whom even the previous Batman was wary. Nor would this be the first time he has knowingly committed a felony in the course of performing what he sees as his duty.”

Damian raised an eyebrow beneath his mask and could not stop himself from scoffing. “No doubt an oversimplified exaggeration on his part.”

Batman’s head snapped to the side. “Robin, go assist Agent A.”

Damian scowled. “I was merely -”

“Now.”

Damian balked but didn’t want to push and risk getting benched from patrol tonight. He clenched his jaw and turned to the stairs. The conversation picked up again behind him, though it seemed to be moving cyclically with the alien and the android wanting to confront Drake and Batman trying to convince them to leave it up to him. Batman had almost recovered his normal tone of voice, but something about it reminded Damian of the night the news was broken to Drake about the roster change and - more specifically - when Richard had inexplicably referred to them as equals. At the time, he had thought it sounded like an assuaging. And it was obvious to everyone who was there that Drake had interpreted it as mockery, rearing back from the perceived blow where Damian himself would have lunged forward. Of course, Damian would not have needed replacing. 

But thinking of it now, and turning back to watch Batman argue with ever shortening patience, he had to wonder if it might have been more of a plea. Damian knew that there were instances in their time together when Richard had felt overwhelmed with all that was expected of him. Originally, Damian had believed that this was due to the inherent inferiority of the older man, but time spent both in the field and at rest with him had proved otherwise. Perhaps it was simply an undertaking that only their father could manage. Regardless, Richard had wanted more assistance with handling Gotham, and he wanted Drake to be there to do it. Doubtless Damian’s own contributions were invaluable, but he also knew that his partnership came with additional burdens for the man. 

Damian turned away from that thought and from the argument below and continued on his way. He’d been ordered to assist Pennyworth in his duties, but Damian had no desire to face the butler’s rebuke for wearing his uniform in their living space and he had even less desire to explain the reason for it. Instead, he found himself walking toward the bedrooms. 

Past Pennyworth's, just before the room Richard had taken and across the hall from his own was a door that was rarely opened. Pennyworth went in weekly to air it out in preparation for someone who may never return. Grayson sometimes hesitated before it, placing a hand against the wood before continuing on his way. Damian didn't know if he ever actually entered it, but had once caught Richard with his forehead pressed against the cool surface. He'd been unsure if he should say something or leave him to his privacy when the older man had noticed his presence. Straightening up and smiling, he'd asked a question that Damian didn't hear, too focused on the set of his shoulders and the tense chords of the other man's throat. He used a different response to cover himself, but he had a similar air his teachers adopted when they were punished on the occasions when Damian did not progress as fast as Grandfather demanded, and were trying to hide it. Guilt was a luxury Damian could not and would not afford, so it must have been something else he felt as he had watched Richard try to remove the evidence of his vulnerability. He offered a response that was likely unrelated to Richard’s question, but allowed the man to further steer their encounter. It was more leniency than Damian typically showed, but leniency was kindness where he came from and Richard was frequently lenient with him.

Now Damian opened the door and stepped inside. The temperature inside was the same as the rest of the penthouse, Damian knew, but somehow the room felt colder. The room was the same size as all the other bedrooms save Richard's, but somehow it seemed simultaneously larger and smaller. It seemed overcrowded and cluttered with all of the varied hesitations, weighted questions, insults, and dismissals that Drake's absence had left. It seemed cavernous as it stretched to accomodate all the potential things Drake could have been and might still become. 

He understood now why Father had reacted to his assaults on Drake the way that he did. He understood why he'd disapproved of the shows of Damian's superior skill the way that he did. But Damian could not quite understand how he was meant to react differently. After everything he'd done, everything he'd lost, everything he'd had to give away and spurn as meaningless just to survive. Everything it had cost mother, everything she'd had to do and sacrifice just to get him to this point and he arrived only to find out that he had been usurped before he even had a chance to prove his worth. And not by just anyone, but by some feeble interloper with a fraction of his training and none of his lineage. Damian had brought forth everything worthwhile about himself and none of it had mattered. Unacceptable; it could not stand. It was the ultimate humiliation. Both Father and Grayson had attempted to convince him that he had assessed the situation incorrectly; that their family here operated under different factors and expectations, but Damian still could not let it go. All he had wanted was to be with Father and Mother. Just the three of them, together and safe.

Damian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t noticed that he had grown so tense. He relaxed his jaw and uncurled his fists. He turned to leave but stopped short when he saw Richard in the doorway and he suppressed his reaction when he saw that Richard had taken off the batsuit. The older man usually had fairly animated body language, but Damian could read nothing now. 

"They've agreed to give Tim more time to see how it plays out."

Damian nodded. He wasn't sure whether Richard had expected him to deride the decision or agree with it, but he studied Damian’s face for an extended moment and only the look on his own face kept Damian from snapping at him for it. He kept his expression schooled under the scrutiny, but when Richard finally looked away he was left with the sensation that he'd still given something away though he couldn't have said what.

"I need to get some things in order, so we'll head out for patrol a little late tonight."

"Understood."

But Grayson was gone before he'd finished speaking. 

His subdued nature was similar to how he reacted whenever they had a confrontation with Todd. Grief, Pennyworth had said when Damian had mentioned it to him. A specific type of grief one had for someone still living. Damian took one last look at the room around him before leaving and shutting the door silently. For all his comprehensive training and experience, Damian did not know how to live with the ghost of a person who might yet return. 

Grayson hadn't commented on his not attending to Pennyworth, so perhaps he had forgotten his instruction. But Damian had not and he did not want to add any more burdens to his brother's shoulders. He went to the kitchen and assisted in preparatory work for the meals of the coming week. Grayson had recovered some semblance of normalcy by the time he came through to collect him, though he was still quieter than usual as they made their way down to the bunker together. Grayson put back on the suit and Damian checked over his equipment again, though he knew it was still in perfect working order. It wasn’t until they were pulling out of the garage that the silence was broken.

“What they said on the call...I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. We don’t have all of the facts. Rob- Red Robin is really good at coming up with and executing strategies, but oftentimes if you come into it in the middle, his approach can seem a little cockeyed. But he was Robin for a reason. He’s got morals and lines he won’t cross.”

Damian knew firsthand how little that could actually mean. Morals were luxuries one could not always afford and boundaries were only useful in marking how one could be held back and manipulated. Grandfather, for one, thrived on twisting people out of their codes and oaths. “Are you concerned about the criminal implications Superman and Red Tornado addressed with regards to Red Robin?”

Batman looked over at him and then back to the road. “What do you mean?”

“Assault. Breaking and Entering. Murder. Sm-”

“Woah, hold on. He didn’t murder anyone. There’s been nothing to suggest that.”

Damian huffed. “He’s working with at least one assassin. Whether he is actively participating or passively allowing it, there is a logical conclusion to draw there.”

Batman scowled. “No there isn’t. We don’t know that he was actually working with him, and we don’t know that he was actually this Owens guy. Not for sure.”

Damian hesitated. He had been putting a lot of conscious effort lately into being less combative with Richard and he didn’t want the other man to think he was being unnecessarily stubborn. And yet. “I know the name.”

“What name?”

“Marcus Owens.”

Batman stared at him for as long as he could get away with without jeopardizing his driving. “Who is Marcus Owens?”

“I don’t know.”

“You just said -”

“I said I know the name. But I am having trouble placing it. It is very likely that he is an assassin either within or known by my grandfather’s organization.”

“But you don’t know. And even if he is, we still don’t know if he’s actually the sniper from the roof. Like I told Superman and Red Tornado; we’ll look into it.”

“If he is, though, and Drake -”

“No names.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “And Red Robin is working with him then we must consider -”

“We’re going to look into it. We’re going to pursue all the leads we can from Gotham -”

“Which have been tenuous at best.”

“We’re going to pursue all that we can and then we will take the most appropriate course of action to bring him home safely. Until then, we’re going to trust him to handle himself and know what he’s doing and bring himself back.”

“What will you do if he does not come back?”

“He’s coming back, Robin.”

“Yes.” Because Richard needed to hear it. But then because he needed to know, “But what will you do if he does not?”

The older man’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and he said nothing. On their first patrol together as Batman and Robin, Damian had made a disparaging remark and Richard had told him that it wasn’t too late for him to call Drake back and reinstate him as Robin. It was a considerable length of time before Damian realised that he would not have actually done so. But it was also that same length of time in which they both really came to understand how little Richard could have done to achieve that reversal should he have wanted to. Damian still did not know how much the latter informed the former. After all, Richard had not hesitated to relegate him to support duties while he worked in tandem with Red Robin in the fight against the Black Lanterns. When Red Robin disappeared once more afterwards without a word, Richard did not mention any of it again. The uncertainty lurked in the back of his mind as they stopped the car in an alley for the night and grapnelled up onto an open roof. They settled into silence again before Batman let out an explosive sigh beside him. “I know you don’t like him but you barely know him. He’s coming back, even if he’s mixed up in something bad. This is his home and he’ll always be welcome here. We’re not the League of Shadows. It’s not like how you grew up. We give second chances, third chances, however many chances that are needed. He’s my brother. Please trust me on this.”

“Tt. We will reevaluate when he returns.” 

Batman smiled and then turned his focus to Oracle and what information she had for them tonight. For as long as he had been in Gotham, Damian still found himself disquieted at the homogenous way people here referred to his life before, though he knew there was no way for them to understand the nuances. His earliest memories were of accompanying his mother. Wherever she was, he was too and everything he experienced was incorporated into his training. Every mountain climbed, every valley crossed, every animal spotted, every plane taken. All of it was named, defined, and explained. They were some of his best memories; sitting in his mother’s arms as she unravelled the world for him. “One day, Habibi, you will bow to no one.” She would whisper into his ear, though he hadn’t understood what she meant at the time.

Good though those times were, there were no memories that were completely free from the fear and desperate determination that clung like shadows to every aspect of his Grandfather’s wake. As he grew, he also grew into the expectations of his role in Grandfather’s legacy. Learning to walk was learning kata. Learning to talk was to learn it again in a second language, in a third, in a fifth. Learning of animals and terrain was learning to track, identify, and hunt. Learning to fight was learning to suppress, was learning to accept, was learning to obey, was learning to kill. Grandfather’s expectations of him started high and rapidly grew higher and he could find safety in his mother’s arms less and less. 

“9-1-1 call just went through from 471b East Jarvis Street.” Oracle’s voice in his comm cut into his musings and he shook himself, annoyed at having been so thoroughly distracted. The address was close enough that they didn’t need to get the car and they started running the rooftops while she filled them in. “Theresa Lawrence woke up in the middle of the night and found her twelve year old son, Jacob, missing from his bed. Scott Peterson, her ex husband, got out of prison three days ago and is staying with his brother out near Robinson Park but has expressed his intent to move back in with Theresa and she is afraid that he’s involved. Uniforms are already en route to both dwellings.”

“History of violence?” Batman sounded slightly distracted; likely attempting to place the names.

“Yes. He was a higher-level lackey for the Falcones back in the day. He didn’t have a seat at the table, but he wasn’t far off. His rap includes assault, assault with a deadly weapon, intimidation, and stalking. Likely more that they couldn’t pin on him. According to the records, he was grooming Jacob to go into the ‘family business’ and was only violent toward Theresa when she tried to leave him but never was abusive toward Jacob.”

“Doesn’t necessarily mean anything now.”

Oracle made an affirming noise. Damian eyed Batman surreptitiously; this was the type of call which weighed heavily on Richard as both Batman and an officer. And he had already been much more solemn than typical after receiving the news about Drake. When they reached the short apartment building and saw that the police officers had already arrived, Batman slipped in through a bedroom window. Normally he would have taken the time to explain his plan before putting it into action but Damian would be lenient, just this once.

The officers were in the living room when he slipped in through the window and were visibly and audibly displeased at the presence of vigilantes. Damian found the posturing that would commence irksome at best, so he left them to Batman and went to investigate the son’s bedroom. There was simplistic furniture and not much on display in the room itself, though the closet and the space under the bed were overfull. It was only tangentially similar to his bedroom in the penthouse at Wayne Tower or back in Wayne Manor, and even less similar to the rooms he’d slept in when he lived with the League. But, somehow, the small room here did remind him of the ornate, spacious rooms he’d had most of his life. After he was old enough to draw Grandfather’s attention, his life had become strictly regimented with training, lessons, and exhibition. Eventually, the only times he’d seen mother outside of lessons was on the nights she slipped into his room to sit on his bed with him. Sometimes she talked about her day, or her plans for his future. He never commented on how vague those plans were, or how much, even without detail, he could tell they differed from Grandfather’s. It didn’t matter. “Hello, Habibi.” she would whisper and he would know that they were safe from the rigid roles and punishing expectations that awaited them during the rest of their hours. It was these secret nights when she would give him hints as to what kind of man his father was, though she never said his name. 

One night she had asked him what he was. He hadn’t liked the reminder of their obligate selves in the quiet of their secret moments, but he hadn’t wanted to disappoint her.

“I am the vessel for the Demon’s Head. I am the protector of His legacy.” he had recited, though he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and exchanged the last aspect with something more personal. “I am Damian al Ghul.”

She hummed. “One day, Habibi, you will bow to no one. What will you be then?”

Damian wanted to answer but could not comprehend the question.

She had been lenient with his ignorance and pressed her forehead to his. “One day, you will bow to no one and you will be Ibn al Xu'ffasch.”

Damian tried to control his reaction, but couldn’t fully muffle his gasp. He’d racked his mind, but could not think of what this hint to his father’s identity could mean. He knew of no one in the League who had a bat related call sign, though he did remember one night when he’d still slept in her rooms. When he’d found an eared cowl and cape and had put it on. “Look!” he’d said. “I’m a bat!” Mother had laughed and scooped him up and agreed.

Damian wanted to ask her about it, but she only kissed the top of his head and bade him goodnight. The next day he missed a block in training and his weapons instructor had cracked her practice katana across the back of his shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood. “You need focus, Grand Heir! Such sloppiness is beneath you.”

He bowed deeply. “Forgive me.”

“What are you?” she had demanded.

His mind filled with images of the sky, but his mouth moved with the familiar litany. “I am the vessel for the Demon’s Head. I am the protector of His legacy. I will be the extension of His will.”

She nodded. “Clear your mind. Think of nothing else because you are nothing else. It is not enough to laze about at the same skill level. Maintenance is acceptable only for those who cannot reach higher. It is your duty to exceed in all things and at all times.”

He’d kept the bow until she gave him permission to continue the lesson.

Damian shook the memory off and looked again around the small bedroom. Filled with soft comforts, it seemed as if designed to make someone feel smaller in a comforting way. Held instead of constricted. Damian scowled and turned away from the unnecessary sentiment. He hadn’t actually anticipated that he would find anything of worth in the bedroom, and, expectations met, he left to find Batman still in the living room. The Lawrence woman held her arms around her stomach as she spoke with the officers.

He walked over to Batman. “The bedroom seems undisturbed. There is nothing to suggest an abduction.”

The older man nodded and spoke quietly. “Ms. Lawrence says that she usually takes medication to help her sleep, but it was on backorder when she went for a refill. Tonight is the first night she’s going without. That means we don’t know if this is the first time her son has disappeared in the night.”

They both looked over as Lawrence snapped at one of the officers while the other held his hands up in a placating gesture. Batman leaned in and dropped his voice further. "These are the same officers she dealt with when she first tried to press child endangerment charges against her husband. They couldn't do anything until after he hurt her enough to put her in the hospital again. And even then, nothing came of it. Lack of evidence, they said. It wasn’t unusual at the time and it didn’t help that she wouldn’t testify against him in regards to his work for the Falcones. She tried to leave him a few times before she actually managed to get on her feet. Their divorce happened after he’d been imprisoned."

"Tt."

Batman glanced sharply at him. "It's not weakness. Abusers are at their most dangerous when their partner or children try to leave."

"Which is why it is especially abhorrent that they would wait until after the danger has passed to do their duty." Damian hadn't lowered his voice and the officers glared over at him. Batman opened his mouth but whether it was to agree with him or chastise him, Damian wasn’t listening. He thought of his own mother. Fierce, brilliant, and abundantly talented, he had seen her in all manner of aftermaths. Dirty, bruised, or bleeding, it only made her look more awe inspiring. One night, she had implied that the day she whispered to him about might be drawing near. He needed only to prove himself in a coming exhibition. He threw himself into the competition, taking on challenger after challenger and besting them all. But in the final round, he had taken an instant while blocking a backhanded swing to scan the crowds for her face. Unable to find her, he stumbled. He recovered quickly and secured his victory, but it didn’t matter. Grandfather, who had presided over the matches so far, had turned away to watch another after Damian’s mistake. The title was his, but his stumble had rendered his efforts a failure. Mother did not return to his rooms that night or for the next few weeks after and Damian had not been able to dislodge the shame that burned within him. The night she finally did return, she held him tightly to her, as if to make up for time lost. He put his arms around her and felt an impression beneath her dress. He gentled his hands so as to not disturb the bandages on her back and he realised that she had not stayed away by choice. “One day, Habibi, you will bow to no one.” she whispered to him, over and over. Her promise had sounded like an apology and for the first time, he wondered if she had ever made the same promise to herself. In the following days, he had worried that he might see some of her fierceness dim, but she held her head as high as ever. Grandfather implemented several changes to policy and personnel that somehow ended up benefitting no one more than Mother. 

Oracle broke into his musing once again. "I've got surveillance of Jacob in an alley behind a restaurant a few streets over. He's with a few Bandits." The Broken Bandits was a new gang that had popped up. It only had a couple dozen members so it wasn’t likely to survive, but that didn't make it any less dangerous in the immediate sense. 

"You stay with Lawrence and the incompetents, lest they somehow manage to make things worse. I will collect the boy." He went through the window without waiting for a response. 

It was only a few minutes of swinging through the air before he found the group. None of the kids with Jacob were much older than he was which might be concerning, but wasn't Damian's problem right now. Taking them out was pathetically easy and he had grabbed the other boy and swung them both onto the roof before any of them could do much more than shout in surprise. When he let go, the other boy scrambled away from him, nearly falling over the edge of the roof. Damian sneered and waited for him to right himself. He was not sure why he didn’t bring the boy home immediately; he only knew that he couldn’t do that right now. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jacob hastily brushed off his clothes and tried not to be obvious about looking around as if expecting a certain large, cowled figure to descend upon him any moment. 

Damian rolled his eyes. “I think it would be more appropriate for me to be asking you that question. My partner is with your mother now, who is quite frightened for your safety. If you wanted to debase yourself by consorting with worthless criminals, you might consider not wasting anyone else’s time with it.”

Jacob had been glaring at him, but then jerked back as if surprised. “Batman’s with my mom? Why?”

Damian tilted his head and spoke with exaggerated enunciation. “When a child goes missing, people tend to take note.” 

Jacob’s brow furrowed and he looked away. “She should have slept through. Her medication is pretty powerful. Unless - did something happen? Did my father…?”

Damian opened his mouth but hesitated. “The sleeping medication she takes ran out. When she saw that you were missing, she thought your father had abducted you. When you thought something happened to her, you also suspected your father. If he is so dangerous, why would you be out here with small time gang members?”

It didn’t matter what the other boy would have said; it was written all over his face and Damian didn’t make any effort to hide his disdain.

Jacob snarled, “You work with Batman. You couldn’t understand what it’s like with him. My father is a monster!”

Damian stifled his reflexive retort. “So you respond by throwing a tantrum? Running away in the night?”

Jacob ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “He’s not there right now, but he’s coming back. I don’t want...I can’t be there. With him. But I don’t want to leave her alone, either. I’m not joining a gang, especially not one like the Bandits. I’m not going to be what my dad was trying to make me be. But I thought that if I could make it worth their while, they might keep an eye on my mom when I’m not there. I can’t ask anyone else.”

The flawed logic of this conversation was beginning to grate on him, but Richard had been trying to encourage him to empathize and connect with other children while out as Robin and Damian was growing tired of progress meaning only that he was becoming aware of another area in which he was deficient. So he remained. “The police officers your mother first dealt with might have been incompetent, but surely there are others you can speak to. When we return, you can speak to your-”

“I’m not going back there. If he’s going to be there, I’m not going.”

Damian took a steadying breath and tried to imagine what Richard might say. “I understand your distress. But -”

“Oh you understand my distress? Your father’s in prison too, huh?”

If this child interrupted him one more time he was going to abandon the Gotham vigilantes moral code. Damian took a moment to center himself. Both Richard and Father believed in trying to build a rapport with the people they were trying to help. Often this included sharing non-identifying memories or aspects of their lives that were similar to what the person they were speaking to was struggling with. Damian had few relatable stories, though he suspected there were themes and specifics that might be knowable if one stripped away the severity. He glanced around; nothing about either this rooftop or the company reminded him of the safe moments he shared with his mother, but something about it felt similar enough. Perhaps it was the anonymity. Perhaps because what he could share wasn’t actually the same thing, though there were similarities.

“My father is dead. However, my…” What did one call the brother of their brother? It likely didn’t matter. “My brother was recently...encouraged to leave. He…” Damian couldn’t think of how to continue and regretted his attempt.

But Jacob seemed reluctantly intrigued. “Why did he have to go? Did he do something bad?”

“No. But I think he is...doing bad things now.”

Jacob hummed. “And you think that if he comes back, he’s going to make you do those bad things?”

Damian looked over the skyline and wished he could see the stars through the smog. It would have been good to be able to blame why he suddenly felt small on an open sky. “If he comes back, I think I will do bad things because he is here.”

Damian had never spoken to either Richard or Pennyworth about this fear of reactionary regression or about whether it had any basis in actuality. He had rarely allowed himself to think of it. “I know it is not the same as your fears surrounding your father.”

Jacob shrugged. “Yeah, but nothing ever is, I guess.”

“If you return, it will not be the same as it was before. Even if you do not trust the police officers, you have more allies than just them. Batman and I are aware of the situation now.”

The other boy snorted. “What, you’re gonna take time out of punching psycho clowns and douchebags in leotards to watch out for the kid of a mid management thug from an outdated criminal empire?”

Damian shrugged. “We have a quota.”

Jacob laughed and Damian was relieved both that his attempt at humour was understood and that this rooftop meeting seemed to be winding down. There weren’t many graceful ways for him to grapnel over rooftops carrying someone the same size as him, but it still did not take them long. When they arrived Jacob’s mother grabbed him into an embrace. Oracle explained various services they could use to keep Peterson away, all of which Batman relayed. Eventually they were freed to continue patrol. 

They did an abridged route, but nothing else of note happened and they returned to the car. As they neared the bunker, Batman spoke. “You did very well tonight, Robin. I’m proud of you.”

Damian held himself still as the unexpected praise washed over him. “Thank you. Your performance was acceptable as well.”

Batman chuckled. “I mean it. I know we were both a little off tonight for obvious reasons,” Damian scoffed, “but I think that tonight was an example of how far you’ve come.”

Safely inside, the car parked and they headed toward the table by the Batcomputer where Pennyworth had left tea and coffee for them. Richard pulled off his cowl and Damian removed his domino. “The way you handled Jacob was excellent.”

Damian shrugged. “It was not difficult to retrieve him. He was only a short distance away and not exactly the most skilled of adversaries.”

Richard took a mouthful of coffee but kept his eyes on Damian. “I’m not sure if you realised it at the time, but your comm was on when you were talking to him.”

Damian froze, eyes locked on his own mug. He had not realised. 

“You talked him down wonderfully. You empathized and let him feel in control. You did the R proud.” Richard gently knocked their mugs together to draw his attention. “What you said about Tim...you know you can talk to me about those things, right?”

Could he? “We do not get along. We do not need to get along.”

“Damian.”

“It isn’t an issue. Even if he returns -”

“Damian.”

His jaw clacked audibly shut. 

“Do you trust me?”

Damian raised his eyes to meet Richard’s. “What?”

“You used to go off on your own all the time. On patrol and off. But more and more you’ve been following my orders. More and more you’ve been asking for my orders. Waiting on my call. You’ve been doing the same in our civilian lives too. Is that because you trust me?”

Damian couldn’t speak but he nodded slightly.

“Okay. I know you don’t have a lot of experience with situations like this so it might not be easy for you to form an objective view of how it might play out. Will you trust me to help you with that?”

Damian studied the blue eyes in front of him for a long moment before nodding again.

“You said you were worried about doing something bad if Tim returns. Were you talking about something specific or more generally regressing?”

Damian found himself unable to say the words and instead pressed his lips together.

Richard tilted his head. “Something specific?”

Silence.

“General regression?”

Damian nodded hesitantly.

The older man spoke quietly. “Do you want my honest expectation?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. I think that if he comes back, you will regress a little.”

Damian squeezed his eyes shut against the hurt that bloomed within him. He felt hands on his shoulders and wanted to shove them away, wanted to snarl and shout. But he didn’t want Richard to let go.

“Damian. In situations like that, everyone regresses. You’ve made so much progress here, but your relationship with him will be exactly the same as where it was left off because it didn’t grow in tandem with you. So you’re going to be simultaneously the same and much different. So will he. And so will I. So will Alfred, even. It’s like we’ve been saying all along. Progress isn’t a straight line.”

“It is for me.”

“No, Dami, it’s not. You’re going to go back and forth between who you are now and who you were then until you create new memories with him and your relationship builds around the new people you are. And that’s okay. That’s how it works every time you’re away from someone for an extended amount of time, especially if you’ve grown as much as you have. Just trust me if you don’t trust yourself or him, okay?”

Damian nodded.

“Good. Finish your tea and then we’ll go to bed." Richard wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “And Damian? Even if you make a mistake, even if you lean into it a little bit, I’ll still be proud of you. Your regression then would have no bearing on your progress now. It won’t make it less real."

Damian leaned into Richard briefly before pulling away. _‘One day, Habibi, you will bow to no one. What will you be then?’_ His mother had asked.

He brought his mug with him up the stairs as Richard followed behind him. 

_‘Free.’_ Damian thought. Perhaps it would not last. Perhaps Grandfather would seize him again. Perhaps Richard was wrong and he would make a mistake severe enough to be cast out. But for now at least, _‘I am free.’_


End file.
